


Ask Him

by kueble



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: Geralt hates the autumn season.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	Ask Him

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: touch (to say goodbye)

_Ask him._

There’s a chill in the air and it smells like it could snow at any moment. The sun is hidden behind a curtain of gray clouds, but Jaskier looks every bit as beautiful as he does when the mid-summer sun is shining down on him. His eyes are a startling blue in the muted world around him, glistening with the hint of unshed tears. 

The bard is like this every year, just this side of too emotional when they finally give into the weather and decide to part for the season. The first year, Geralt assumed that would be the end of this bizarre partnership. Surely Jaskier would spend the winter lazing about in the warmth and comfort of court and remember that life off the path meant a full belly and an empty head. Only they’d run into each other and Jaskier had clung to him as if that had been the plan all along. And in all honesty, it probably had been. Geralt’s never been good with figuring out what people want from him.

Turns out Jaskier simply wants _him_.

It had taken time to get there, but they fell into bed as easily as any other trouble they got into. Jaskier was worth waiting for; all long lines and soft skin under Geralt’s rough hands. The best part was how little actually changed. Sure they have sex all the time now - make love as Jaskier referred to it on one momentous occasion - but they still gripe and bicker and joke around just as they have for years. It’s the first relationship Geralt’s had where sex adds to it; where the act doesn’t take away some other part of the relationship he’d adored.

_Ask him._

“Did you see the frost this morning?” Jaskier asks, his voice tinged with sadness. “As gorgeous as it is to wake up to a world that’s been crystalized outside my window, I fear winter is upon us.” 

“Where will you be off to?” Geralt asks, which is exactly the wrong question to be asking. He frowns, not entirely sure how to do what he’s thinking of.

“I never bothered to set up anything long-term this year, so I suppose I’ll head back to Oxenfurt. The university always welcomes me back,” Jaskier tells him. He turns away and stares off into the distance for a moment, and Geralt can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat speeding up, rattling against the cage of his ribs.

“Is this goodbye then?” Geralt asks before feeling an overwhelming urge to hold his bard. He steps closer and pulls him in, crushing Jaskier’s back against his chest. He hooks his chin over Jaskier’s shoulder and takes a deep breath; lets the familiar scent of honey and jasmine flood over him. He closes his eyes and just soaks it in, loving how just having Jaskier in his arms is enough to settle his mind.

“Seems like it. Sometimes I hate autumn,” Jaskier whispers as he leans back into Geralt.

“Come with me,” Geralt says just as softly. 

And then Jaskier is spinning in his arms, looking up at him with wide-eyed wonder. “You mean it?” he asks brightly. Geralt is barely able to nod before he’s being kissed, Jaskier clinging to him as their mouths slant together. His hands can’t stop moving, running across Jaskier’s back, smoothing down the tousled fabric of his cloak, trailing up and down his arms as he yanks him closer. It’s as if they’re melting together, trying to climb into each other through the kiss. Geralt whines into the kiss, desperate and broken, only pieced back together as Jaskier licks into his mouth and takes control. He’s trying to swallow Geralt whole, and he doesn’t mind at all, wants to be devoured.

When they finally part, Jaskier darts back in to gently press his lips against his forehead and Geralt can’t help beaming at him. “If I get stupid about this next year, remind me we should never part,” he murmurs into the small space between their faces. Jaskier laughs and shakes his head.

“Just next year, or every time you get stupid between then and now?”

“Just keep me in check. Promise me,” Geralt pleads even as he rolls his eyes.

“Always will, love,” Jaskier answers firmly before dragging him in for another kiss.

Everything was good again.


End file.
